Tuesday, February 14, 2012

The Virtue of Dialogue -- A Review

Conversation:
If we’re willing to engage in it, it
might transform a congregation. But, are
we ready and willing to take the steps required to truly engage in
conversation, to listen to one another, even when one vehemently disagrees with
the other?

We live in an age that demands
immediate results, that has become increasingly segregated, not only along
ethnic and linguistic lines, but also political and generational lines. The old homogeneous principle that Church
Growth enthusiasts hailed as the key to success, has been successful, but I’m
not sure that the results have been beneficial to society or the church. We also live in an age where civility in
conversation is a rare commodity. I
realize that civility has always been something difficult to attain and
maintain, but it seems as if things have gotten out of hand, making fruitful
conversation difficult at best. But,
there is hope and there are models that can guide us, if we’re willing to
engage and be patient along the way.

Part of our problem is that in our
embrace of democracy, which can mean the rule of the majority (or in some cases
the tyranny of a noisy minority), we find it difficult to move toward
consensus. There are faith communities
that work on this model, but few try it – I’ve yet to really try it, but it’s a
model that is suggestive of possibilities.
It is a model that is described and illustrated in a new e-book written by
Chris Smith, editor of the Englewood Review of Books and a member of the Englewood Christian Church of
Indianapolis, which is the focus of the book.

Before
I comment further on this brief but insightful book, I need to reveal that I’ve been a
regular contributor to the Englewood Review of Books,and Chris has reviewed my own books. Having added this caveat, I will also say that
what I have to say about the book isn’t some kind of quid pro quo arrangement where I say nice things about his work so
he’ll nice things about mine! It is a
book, brief though it may be, that needs to be read with care.

Chris
tells the story of the transformation of an aging urban congregation that in
its heyday was a mega-church and one of the leading congregations of its
tradition. Over time the surrounding community
began to change. The leading employers
closed factories or downsized. The
population declined and then changed.
Many of the members of the Englewood Church moved to the suburbs, and
commuted to the church. Despite various
attempts to adapt and grow, usually making use of church growth principles, the
church found it difficult to move forward and membership dropped to about
200. The future looked bleak, but then a
conversation began that would ultimately prove transformative.

This
conversation that is the subject of Chris’s book began on Sunday evenings as a
replacement for a fading Sunday evening service – what he describes as Sunday
morning lite. What is intriguing is that
this conversation began in the mid-1990s and continues to this day, expanding
beyond that Sunday evening slot. During
these conversations, congregants, and members of the community that surrounded
the church, gathered to discuss scripture, theology, the community, and
ministry. These conversations often were
difficult and contentious, but they helped move the congregation to a new way
of being present in the community. It
helped them reenvision their ministry as a church, even if not everyone agreed
as to the nature and purpose of the church.

I
approached this book with deep interest, in large part because I pastor what
one might consider the remains of a former mega-church. Like Englewood, Central Woodward was once a
leading congregation in our denomination.
It was a church that provided national leaders to our denomination and
to the ecumenical movement. It was also
viewed as the “cathedral” for Michigan Disciples. But, as Detroit changed the church found it
difficult to adapt, and finally it followed the remaining membership into the suburbs. It was a choice made by many predominantly
white congregations during the 1960s and 1970s, though it probably did so a
decade too late. Unlike Central
Woodward, however, Englewood stayed put in its neighborhood, though its future
looked grim.

The
church has not returned to its former mega-church status, which we’re introduced
to in the first chapter of the book, but it has embraced its call to be present
in the community and developed ministries appropriate to its setting. It has involved itself in creating
businesses, housing, and ministries to the neediest in the community. It has taken root in the community, and it’s
been able to do so because it committed itself to taking the long road of
conversation that began in the mid 1990s.

Chris speaks of conversation being
an essential practice of the church, where we “learn to set aside our personal
agendas and talk together in Christ-like ways” (location 121). But as is clear this doesn’t happen
overnight. The conversations were
hampered by the fragmentation present in the congregation that reflected a
“culture of individualized faith.”
Participants brought with them their various theological, social and
political views, along with “an emotional attachment to these
convictions.” All of this took place as
our culture lost its ability to engage in conversation. As Chris describes the realities of this
conversation one wonders how they stuck with it.

Our conversation in those earliest
years was extraordinarily volatile.
People frequently got angry and yelled at others; some would get up and
walk out. The conflict was intense, and
not everyone was prepared to handle it.
Some members quit coming on Sunday nights; others left the church
completely. (loc. 258-259)

Being that this was a congregation
with evangelical inclinations some of the most volatile conversations centered
on the nature of salvation. Some focused
on personalistic views while others sought a broader less individualistic
vision. By the time that Chris got
involved, these conversations had been going on for eight years, and the
climate was still difficult. And yet
they persisted in the conversations.
What ultimately sustained them was the commitment to each other and
God’s work in that community. They
didn’t agree on a lot of items, and they fought about them, but they remained
together, engaging in conversation.
Eventually the conversation became more civil and structured, but the
work has not ended.

As I read the book, I have to admit
that I’m not sure I’m ready to take this path.
I can be rather averse to conflict, and thus I might shy away from
engaging in such volatile conversation. Besides,
the culture of democracy that pervades our congregations makes a consensus form
of decision-making difficult. It’s
rather scary, and yet there is great attractiveness to this vision. It is a reminder that much of our functional
church life is rooted less in spirituality and more in modern institutional
life. Our churches look more like legislatures
than a council of spiritual leaders.

Chris has provided us with an
introduction to the kinds of conversations that can be transformative, even if
they’re not easy to engage in. These are
conversations that require much patience and willingness to work hard at
achieving our goals. Still, we’re
blessed to have this primer that can encourage us and guide us toward a much
more healthy way of being church, one that is rooted theologically in scripture,
and one that allows us to move beyond individualistic versions of our faith. For this we are grateful.

7 comments:

It seems extremely odd to me, that dialog in a church community, is suggested as being an experiment - something that, "If we're willing to engage in it, it might transform a congregation." If dialog is a form of love (which I believe it is), then loving one another might equally be considered as something to try IF we are ready and willing to do so. It seems odd that is, until I remember that the overwhelming majority of church communities hire men as spiritual models who hone their skills in homiletics (monologs), but know little about dialogical discourse. Meanwhile, in the secular world, intentional communities are adopting forms of non-violent communication and non-hierarchical decision-making. Little wonder that the "church" communities continue the downward spiral toward powerlessness, triviality, and irrelevance.

I have participated in two types of what are often called consensus models. The first among Quakers (3 types), who are more homogenous as Churches in that they self select for people who tend to think along ways similar to themselves, are largely committed to non-violence means and seeped in a worship style that involves intense listening for God speaking through another and yourself -you don't voice your opinions but your leadings even business meetings are worship meetings. They don't call what they do consensus.

The other experience was as the group facilitator for a campus peace group that was the catch bag for everything on the left at a conservative institution -with very strong passions among the individuals for different causes and seven very strong personalities among about another fifty or so quieter ones. If we were to get anything done and not endlessly hash things out we had some guiding principles.

1.)We didn't vote on decisions, we agreed, agreed to disagree but didn't stand in the way of another's acting, or we set it aside and worked together where we could. The latter two rarely happened do to, IMHO, the other 'rules'.

2.)The agenda for discussion was set up ahead by those who showed up early and was then the first point of the meeting for adjustment.

3.) There was an end time set up.

4.) We would critique the discussion at the end. Was everyone given an opportunity to speak? Did you feel heard? Were you respected?

5.) I found as facilitator I couldn't have a dog in the race I had to trust the wisdom and the diversity of the group. My job was to make sure the stronger personalities didn't trample someone else, that everyone was offered a chance to speak (and outright asking for the views of quieter people directly) AND policing respect of others and of time -not saying what's been said unless asking if you understood it correctly. Generally, I found that the facilitator had to be a strong personality themselves, but not have a personal agenda, to be more committed to the process than the outcome.

Don, for churches that are rooted in principles of democracy, this is a difficult direction to take. It's possible, as Chris shows us, but it takes time and patience, two things we often lack.

Jeff, you have laid out nicely the possibilities and the pitfalls of using a consensus/dialog model. We either self-select as pretty much being in agreement at the outset,or we require a commitment to the process and a strong facilitator. Not always easy to do, especially since strong personalities will try to dominate the conversation.

Robert,Seems to me, that there is a need for conversations within congregations concerning the "principles of democracy". It would be especially appropriate for congregations to do so as the New Testament word we've transliterated for "church" is "ecclesia" - a political or decision-making gathering. From what I understand, in the Athenian Ecclesia, voting was not considered to be the most democratic method for decision making. One of the problems with voting, as I see it, is that it always creates division unless there is a unanimous vote. Another is that, as Jeff mentioned, voting seems to place a priority of outcome over the process - or it sub-prioritizes the "edification of the Body".But "principles of democracy" is just one of the things that need to be discussed. But rather than discuss those issues, valuable time is wasted while the "laity" sits passively listening to "clergy" deliver "sermons". What is the purpose of sermons? To teach? We know that the lecture method of teaching is the LEAST effective means of teaching. Which accounts for the extreme ignorance of the laity - even those who have spent years sitting listening to sermons. The other purpose of sermons might be to deliver prescriptions for living. But, as Paulo Freire, points out, such prescriptions rob us of a critical consciousness. Sermons create a dependent laity and a co-dependent relationship between the clergy and laity - similar to that of an abusive father and the other family members. About the only good sermons do, in my opinion, is they are a boost for the ego of the one who gives them. But, perhaps that's not such a good thing.

About Me

I am a Disciples of Christ pastor, theologian, community activist, historian, teacher. I'm a graduate of Fuller Theological Seminary with a M.Div. and a Ph.D. in Historical Theology. I'm the author of a number of books including Marriage in Interesting Times (Energion, 2016) and Freedom in Covenant (Wipf and Stock, 2015).